LAST WEEK IN THIS DISCLAIMER: Alan Decker revealed
that he owns Star Traks, while Paramount Pictures took a paternity
test and found out that Star Trek was its child.
Star Traks: The Lost Years #10
Is That A Fleet In Your Pocket...?
by
Alan Decker
In my Starfleet career, I, on occasion, faced odds so
daunting that the only response my mind could suggest was to
scream and wet myself. This was one of those times. Fortunately,
I had the decorum to veto that course of action.
Excerpt from "Secondprizes and Second Chances:
The Making of a Yynsian Captain"
By Captain Jaroch. Published 2411.
As Captain Alexander Rydell looked at the viewscreen, a
viewscreen filled with starships all with their weapon systems
locked on the USS Secondprize, he idly wondered how they were
all going to manage to shoot his ship without hitting each other.
There was only so much room inside the asteroid field for all of
those ships to surround the Secondprize.
"Think they'll let us just back on out of here?" Karina
Durham asked. Rydell flashed her a weak smile as she leaned
back against the sidewall of the bridge.
"Um...sir," Lieutenant Prescott broke in from tactical. "What
do you want me to do?"
"Get to the biggest window you can find and start waving a
white flag," Rydell replied.
"Maybe they do not wish us to surrender," Jaroch said.
"Well, I sure as hell am not going to start shooting at them
just for locking several hundred photon torpedoes on us," Rydell
replied. He turned to Prescott. "Try hailing somebody."
"Who?"
"Just pick one!"
"Oookay...wait. We're being hailed."
Rydell breathed a slight sigh of relief. "See. They want
to talk about this after all."
"Or they simply wish to introduce themselves before
reducing us to our component molecules," Jaroch said.
Rydell quickly glared at Jaroch, then turned back to the
viewscreen just as the image shifted to show an older Asian man,
probably late fifties to sixties, in a Starfleet uniform standing in
some kind of control room. Rydell would have been relieved
except for the fact that the uniform this man was wearing was in a
style that was pushing 100 years old.
Upon seeing Rydell, the man (an admiral judging by his
rank insignia) broke into a broad grin. "Captain Alexander Rydell.
What an unexpected, yet entirely appropriate surprise!"
"Do I know you?" Rydell asked.
"How rude of me. Admiral Hitori Sulu. Perhaps you are
familiar with cousin's great grandfather, HIKARU Sulu."
"I've heard the name," Rydell replied. "But that still
doesn't explain why you know me, why you're here with an entire
fleet, and why they're all pointing weapons at us!"
"Such a tone," Sulu said, clicking his tongue
disapprovingly. "Don't you have any gratitude for the man who
gave you your command?"
Rydell started to protest. "My orders were signed by..."
"Yes, I know who signed them, but I put it all in motion.
Really, you had a very simple role to play, Captain, and you
screwed it up! Now I don't know how you found us or how you
knew to arrive on this particular day, but you will be telling me all
of this VERY soon."
"Listen, Sulu, none of this is making any sense to me."
"Let me clarify then. You will immediately transport
yourself to the coordinates we are transmitting now. If you attempt
to run, your ship will be destroyed. If you do not materialized in
the next five minutes, your ship will be destroyed.
Damn. Rydell hated it when things were this clear. "How
do I know you won't blow my ship up anyway once I beam over
there?"
"What reason would I possibly have to do that?" Sulu
asked.
"Got me. I don't know the reason you're doing any of this."
"All in due time. Sulu out." The admiral vanished as the
viewscreen shifted back to show the armada of vessels outside.
Rydell wasn't sure which image was more disconcerting.
Rydell ran his hand back through his hair anxiously.
"Anybody got a bead on this one?"
"No wonder Admiral Wyndham led us here," Lieutenant
Commander Emily Sullivan said from the conn console. "They're
throwing a nutbar convention."
"They would appear to be quite well armed nutbars," Jaroch
said.
"Did you manage to learn anything useful?" Rydell asked.
"The signal we received originated in a hollowed out
asteroid located near the middle of the field. That is also where the
transporter coordinates we received will send you. Also, I may
have deciphered one small bit of Wyndham's ravings."
Jaroch pressed a control on his console, causing the view to
zoom in on the name stenciled on the secondary hull of the
Ambassador class starship hovering off of their port bow.
USS CONDOR-87
And another...
USS CONDOR-34
"Well that explains that," Rydell said. "Guess Wyndham
was right about the condors flocking."
"Unfortunately. But aside from the asteroid base and the
Federation-style vessels, we have one other bit of company."
"A fleet of angry Borg cubes, perhaps," Rydell muttered.
"Not at all; however, that does give me an idea," Jaroch said
thoughtfully. He shook the thought aside and changed the view on
the screen to show a fairly large cargo freighter.
"Significance?" Rydell asked.
"I have no idea. My scans will not penetrate the hull."
"Maybe the don't like people looking at their stuff," Karina
said.
"That would certainly fit in with the theme of the day,"
Rydell said. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, folks, but I have to
go beam into certain doom." He headed toward the turbolift.
"On the contrary," Jaroch said. "Considering how little we
know, I'd say your odds of doom are only about 87 percent."
"Great. I feel much better," Rydell replied
unconvincingly as he entered the turbolift. Karina jogged inside
just before the lift doors closed.
While Lieutenant Commander Patricia Hawkins gradually
regained consciousness, she couldn't shake the overall feeling that
she was on a boat, a small, unstable one most likely. Maybe she'd
open her eyes and find herself back on that little fishing skiff her
father had owned while he and Hawkins's mother did their studies
of the lost Kkkkkkkkikkkkkiekkkkk tribe of Betelgeuse Three. As
far as her parents' cultural anthropology assignments went,
Betelgeuse Three was one of the more pleasant ones.
But then Hawkins realized she couldn't hear the ocean, or
any water at all. Instead the air was filled with the low hum of
something electronic. She hesitantly opened her eyes, trying to
clear her head and her vision so she could figure out where she was
and just how the hell she'd gotten there.
A sudden twinge in her side reminded her about the second
part. She pulled up her uniform top just enough to see the small
red puncture wound where Spaanz had injected her with whatever
drug had knocked her completely unconscious.
Moving her attention away from her person to her overall
surroundings, she realized why she felt a bit seasick. She was
standing on a transparent aluminum floor through which she could
see a rocky floor at least fifteen feet below. Transparent aluminum
walls surrounded her on three sides, and the fourth wall and ceiling
where forcefields. This entire enclosure, which was about eight
feet square, had been suspended from the ceiling of what appeared
to be some type of cavern. Hanging about ten feet away was
another box containing the unconscious form of Commander Travis
Dillon.
"Travis!" Hawkins called.
Dillon grunted and rolled over onto his stomach in his
sleep.
"TRAVIS!"
"Unhh!" he muttered, then wrapped his arm around his
head, covering his ears.
"TRAVIS!"
"What?" Dillon snapped tiredly without opening his eyes.
"It's not time to get up yet."
"Where the hell do you think we are?" Hawkins said.
"Bed...really firm tonight."
"Just open your damn eyes!"
Dillon did as he was told. A rocky abyss yawned below
him.
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Dillon leapt to his feet and charged
forward without thinking, sending himself plowing straight into the
forcefield.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
W!!!!!
"AAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Dillon wailed, falling back onto his rear end with a thud.
"Morning, sunshine," Hawkins said humorlessly.
"What the hell...those damn Vulcans!" Dillon exclaimed,
remembering what had happened in bar on Demon's Sanctum. "We've
got to get out of here."
"I agree, but we don't even know where here is."
"Here is everywhere I don't want to be," Dillon replied. He
surveyed his surroundings for a moment, taking in the layout of his
prison. "Aha!" he cried excitedly, realizing his commbadge was
still on his uniform. "Our captors aren't as clever as they thought."
He tapped the badge. "Dillon to Secondprize."
Static.
So much for that.
"Travis, just relax and let's come at this with a plan,"
Hawkins said, her irritation growing.
"I already have a plan," Dillon replied, yanking the
commbadge off of his uniform.
"Don't do it, Travis."
"Just relax," Dillon said, taking off his uniform jacket and
wrapping it around his hand. He clutched the commbadge in his
cloth covered fingers, then jabbed it in one of the small forcefield
emitters lining the exit of his hanging cell. The forcefield crackled
satisfyingly, then winked out of existence.
Dillon was about to give Hawkins a smug "I told you so"
look, when he was suddenly sucked off his feet by the complete
and total vacuum outside of his cell. At the last second, he
managed to get a grip on the doorframe as the air in the enclosure
rushed by him. He gulped down as much as he could as he
frantically looked around for some way out of this.
Suddenly, a figure in an environmental suit sailed up using
rocket boots. He grabbed Dillon, flung him back into the now
empty cell, and set to work attaching a small device to the
doorframe. A few seconds later, the forcefield, which was now
being generated by the new device, crackled back to life and air
flooded back into the box. Dillon greedily sucked it in as he lay in
a heap on the floor.
"You were allowed that much progress in your escape
simply because I wanted you to understand the futility of it," an
unfamiliar voice boomed seemingly from out of nowhere. "I am
not ready to kill you yet, but if you try to escape again, I assure you
that my plans can be rearranged. Sulu out."
"Sulu?" Hawkins asked confused as the voice faded away.
"Isn't he dead?"
"There's an Admiral Sulu," Dillon said weakly. "But he's
on our side."
"Somebody needs to tell him that," Hawkins replied.
Dillon groaned softly.
"Are you all right?" Hawkins asked, feeling a little
annoyed.
"I will be if I just lie here for a while."
"Looks like we'll have plenty of time for that."
"Yippee," Dillon said flatly.
Karina waited until the turbolift doors closed, cutting them
off from the bridge, before laying into Rydell. "Have you
completely lost your mind?"
"Deck six." The turbolift began to move as Rydell turned
to face Karina. "I thought you respected my authority on my
ship," Rydell said.
"I didn't say anything in front of your crew, but if you think
I'm just going to stand aside and let you beam over into some death
trap, you're nuts!"
"There seems to be a lot of it going around."
"Joke all you want, but I'm going with you."
Rydell shook his head. "Sorry. It was a private
invitation."
"Alexander!"
"Hold lift." The turbolift slowed to a halt as Rydell
looked at Karina intently. It was the most serious that she had
ever seen him. "Right now the only thing preventing us from being
completely annihilated is that we're doing what we're told. I don't
like it anymore than you do, but until we find out exactly what the
hell is going on here, I don't see that we have any choice. That
means I am going over there."
"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"
"My crew will hold the ship together. But you are going to
the shuttlebay to get your ship ready to go."
"I am not leaving! Besides, they'd shoot me before I
cleared the asteroid ring."
"They don't know you're here," Rydell said. "If things get
bad while I'm gone..."
"Meaning we start getting blasted to sh**."
"Exactly. If that happens, you make a run for Waystation.
Starfleet has to be told what's going on here."
Karina nodded solemnly as Rydell ordered the lift to
resume its movement. A short time later, Rydell stepped
into Transporter Room One. Upon seeing him, Lieutenant
Commander Monica Vaughn immediately broke into a sly grin. She
was about to make one of her trademark lecherous comments when
Rydell shot her a glare and gestured behind him just as Karina
followed him inside. Vaughn' grin immediately vanished as she
slipped into professional mode.
"Coordinates have been laid in, sir," she said.
Rydell hopped up onto the transporter pad and flashed a
smile at Karina. "Catch you later, gorgeous. Energize."
Karina returned as much of a smile as she could muster as
Rydell dematerialized.
Rydell reappeared moments later inside the same control
room he'd seen Sulu broadcasting from. Sulu was waiting for him,
a broad smile covering his face. Behind him stood two people
Rydell would have been quite happy never to have seen again,
Spaanz and Taanz, the two Vulcans who'd beaten the crap out of
him and stolen Bradley Dillon's prototype subspace generator.
Rydell had to assume that they'd been working for Sulu all along.
The trick now would be to find out what Sulu was up to.
"I guess you'd like to know what I'm up to," Sulu said as he
shook Rydell's hand firmly.
Okay. Maybe it wouldn't be so much of a trick after all.
"If you feel like sharing,' Rydell said, keeping his eyes on
Spaanz and Taanz at all time.
"Oh yes. I'd forgotten that you and my associates here are
already acquainted."
"They certainly acquainted their fists with my face,"
Rydell replied ruefully.
Sulu turned to the hulking Vulcans. "Please collect our
other guests. Captain Rydell and I will be fine here."
"Absolutely," Rydell said, forcing a smile. There were
about fifteen other people, all dressed in old-style Starfleet
uniforms, milling about the control room, so Rydell wouldn't
have an opportunity to try anything even with Spaanz and Taanz
gone.
The Vulcans exited, leaving Rydell and Sulu standing at
the rear of the control room watching the activity in front of them.
Massive viewscreens on the front wall of the room showed the
various positions of the ships inside the asteroid ring.
Unfortunately, all of them except the freighter Jaroch had detected
were aimed right at the Secondprize.
"Welcome to the Next Federation," Sulu said proudly.
"Um...no offense, but the current one doesn't seem like it's
going to want to be replaced any time soon."
"Well, there will certainly be some shoving in order, but the
current Federation is a disgrace to the name. It's a disgrace to my
name!"
"How do you figure?"
"You went to the Academy, Rydell. You've read the
history books about our glory days, the days of Pike, Kirk, and the
legendary Hikaru Sulu, MY relative."
"Yeah. You've mentioned that part."
"In those days, we explored the cosmos."
"We explore now."
"But then we weren't afraid to get into a fight when we
needed to. Now all we do is talk and talk and talk. Starfleet
spends so much time shuttling around ambassadors and such that
our ships don't have time for exploration. And when they aren't
shuttling, they're fending off attacks from other species who think
we're weak precisely because we talk when we should be showing
some muscle. It's intolerable!"
"You were an admiral right? That gives you some pull
doesn't it?"
"I tried that route, but I cannot change the entire council. A
revolution is in order."
"You don't have to start a civil war."
"I didn't want this to be violent, Rydell. That's why I
recruited you in the first place," Sulu said.
"I don't know who you think I am, but I'd never even heard
your name until today."
"How do you think a lazy non-conformist like you ever got
to be captain of a starship?" Sulu replied. "Why do you think you
ended up with the...unique...crew that you did?"
"Admiral Wyndham..."
"...was one of my people," Sulu finished. "Before the
unfortunate loss of his faculties. I guess the strain of crewing the
Secondprize was too much for him."
"But why us?" Rydell asked confused. "What could we
possibly accomplish to help you?"
"Destabilization!" Sulu snapped. "With the Secondprize
out screwing things up, sentiment across the Federation would turn
against the current regime. They'd see that the new way wasn't
working, but then you didn't screw up enough!"
"Sorry about that."
"I made other attempts. The Aerostar..."
"But I thought that was a changeling conspiracy."
"Only for the captain. I put the crew together, but again
they didn't get the job done badly enough. Then there was the
Banshee, but they went and got themselves blown up."
"Um...sure they did," Rydell replied.
"In short, I had to handle things myself. Fortunately, I've
spent the last several years recruiting those with similar mindsets.
And now my Next Federation is ready to ascend. This very day,
we launch our assault on Earth."
"No offense, Sulu, but I think somebody might notice that a
giant fleet is heading in the direction of the Federation's capital
world."
"Not if they don't see us coming."
"Cloaks?"
"Even better," Sulu said, stepping over to a terminal where
he magnified the view of the lone freighter on the viewscreen.
"And I have you to thank for it...indirectly."
"Me? What'd I do now?"
Back on the Secondprize, Commander Jaroch sat silently in the
command chair watching the fleet looming ahead of them on the
viewscreen. His mind raced through various strategies and
scenarios, trying to come up with some way to get the Secondprize
out of the asteroid ring before they were reduced to debris by the
fleet in front of them.
He wasn't having much luck.
"Um...Commander?" Lieutenant Andrea Carr said
hesitantly from ops.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Jaroch replied distractedly.
"Well...I was thinking, and I think we may have some help
we could call."
"We've tried that. All of our communications are being
jammed at the moment."
"All of our normal communications," Carr said.
"But who I'm thinking of doesn't use normal comm frequencies."
Jaroch was silent for a moment, considering whether he should
even entertain Carr's idea. Her record would suggest
listening to what she had to say. She had been invaluable on
several occasions. Perhaps there was something he overlooked.
"Please continue."
Carr briefly laid out her idea, which had the very
unusual effect of making the normally stoic Yynsian smile.
As Admiral Sulu worked at the computer console, Rydell
wondered just how he could have indirectly assisted an invasion
plan. "Ta da!" Sulu said as several points along the image of the
freighter's hull began to flash.
"What are those?" Rydell asked.
"A short time ago, a Miss Karina Durham, who I believe is
an acquaintance of yours, obtained a prototype subspace generator
from Dillon Enterprises Research and Development. Of course,
they didn't really develop the original technology. My sources tell
me that Bradley Dillon obtained a subspace pocket from a race
called the Bast several years ago, but his company improved the
technology such that it was capable of storing entire vessels. As
you know, my colleagues Spaanz and Taanz obtained the device
from you and Miss Durham, then we put it into mass production."
Sulu pointed at the viewscreen. "There is the result: a freighter
lined with generators and capable of transporting an entire fleet
without anyone suspecting a thing."
"So you show up at Earth..."
"After a quick stop to pick up Waystation. We need a base
of operations."
Rydell's teeth clenched angrily. "So you attack
Waystation, then head to Earth and...
"SURPRISE! Instant invasion force. Most ingenious,
wouldn't you say? But then, I am a Sulu."
"Hikaru Sulu was devoted to Starfleet and the Federation,"
Rydell said.
"And so am I. As far as I'm concerned, the current regime
has committed treason, and so have you for supporting them."
Spaanz and Taanz returned, holding Dillon and Hawkins
at phaser point.
"Captain!" Dillon and Hawkins exclaimed happily.
"Don't get too excited," Rydell replied. "I'm not exactly
here by choice either."
Dillon turned on Admiral Sulu. "With all due respect, sir,
I don't know what you're up to, but if you wanted to see us that
badly, you could have just ordered us to come. We're all Starfleet
Officers here."
"I didn't want you here at all," Sulu said, looking at Dillon
with disgust. "The whole point of having a secret base is that it
remain SECRET!"
"Captain, what's going on here?" Hawkins asked Rydell.
"Disgruntled Starfleet Officer plans to attack Earth and
overthrow the Federation. The usual," Rydell replied.
Sulu's face hardened. "You're awfully glib for a man
who's about to be executed."
"Woah! Who said anything about executed?" Rydell
demanded.
"I already told you, you've committed treason against the
Next Federation." Sulu pointed at Dillon and Hawkins. "And so
have those two. Anyone who supports the current corrupted
regime is a traitor and will be treated as such."
"Admiral, the freighter reports all flight checks complete.
We may depart at any time," one of Sulu's officers reported from a
nearby console.
"Good," Sulu said. "We'll pocket the fleet momentarily.
But first, one little piece of business. Open a channel to the
Condors and the Secondprize."
"Channel open."
"All ships, this is Admiral Sulu. We are moments away
from the dawn of the Next Federation. But for this dawn to break,
the shadows of the previous regime must be banished to the
darkness from whence they came. Before you now is one such
shadow. The crew of the USS Secondprize is guilty of treason
against our beloved Next Federation. Their sentence is death, and
you, my loyal friends, are my executioners. You may fire at will."
"NO!!!" Rydell screamed, diving at Sulu. Before he got
even a foot, Spaanz's meaty hand grabbed him in mid-air and
slammed him down to the deck.
"...You may fire at will."
As Sulu's words faded from the air, Jaroch jumped up out of
the command chair. "All power to forward and upper shield
generators. Emergency dive! That backup had best arrive soon,
Lieutenant."
Carr didn't reply. She was too busy gripping her
console for dear life as Lieutenant Commander Emily Sullivan sent
the Secondprize into a steep dive.
"They're opening fire!" Lieutenant Prescott shouted from
tactical. Almost immediately, the ship rocked and bucked from the
impacts of phasers against the shields. "Transwarp conduit
opening at coordinates 478 mark 6. A cube ship is emerging."
"I never thought I'd say this, but go Borg," Jaroch said.
The Borg communal voice boomed over the comm systems
of every ship and the asteroid base. "USS SECONDPRIZE, WE
HAVE ARRIVED TO UPHOLD OUR END OF THE
AGREEMENT. YOUR ENEMIES WILL BE DESTROYED."
Rydell saw Sulu blanch ever so slightly, then he turned
his attention to Hawkins and Dillon, neither of whom would meet
his gaze. "Um...would you mind explaining to me exactly what
deal we have with the Borg?"
Dillon shuffled his feet a bit. "Uh...you tell him, Patricia."
"Me? You're his first officer, you tell him!"
"You remember that time you were made king of the
Borg?" Dillon began, smiling weakly.
"Yes," Rydell replied, gesturing for Dillon to continue.
"Well...um...you kind of got fired. And in exchange for us
taking you back, the Borg agreed to attack anyone who attacked
us."
Rydell was silent as he watched events unfold on the
viewscreen. The Next Federation ships had broken off their attack
on the Secondprize and were now regrouping to face the new
threat.
"Sir?" Hawkins said. "Are you okay?"
"Don't bother me. I'm trying to decide whether I'm really
mad or really relieved."
Sulu's voice broke in as he barked new orders to his ships.
"Condors 56-60, activate polaron destabilizers."
"But sir..." a voice protested over the comm system.
"Do it!"
"Aye,"the voice replied hesitantly.
Five ships rushed to the head of the fleet on a course for the
Borg cube. Suddenly, a blinding beam of pure white light lanced
out from the underside of each saucer, all slamming into the cube
at the same point...then drilling straight through.
As the beams shut down one by one, a massive gaping hole
through the center of the cube came into view as Rydell, Dillon,
and Hawkins looked on in stunned shock.
"USS SECONDPRIZE," the Borg voice said again.
"YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN."
And just as abruptly as it had arrived, the Borg ship
vanished into another transwarp conduit.
"Status report," Sulu snapped.
"As expected, the polaron assemblies on Condors 56
through 60 have melted. That was all five of our prototypes,
Admiral," the nearby officer, who seemed to be Sulu's personal
assistant, reported.
"Very well, Mr. Radley," Sulu said. "Sulu to fleet.
Resume your attack on the Secondprize."
Rydell, Dillon, and Hawkins could only watch as the
ships of the Next Federation fleet turned menacingly toward their
ship.
"How soon until we reach the edge of the asteroid ring?"
Jaroch asked. While the Next Federation fleet had been occupied with
the Borg, the Secondprize had been trying to make a break for it.
"Fifteen seconds," Sullivan replied.
The entire crew was suddenly and violently jolted out of
their seats as another barrage of weaponry slammed into them from
above. All around, consoles sparked as the lights flickered.
"Now maybe a bit longer."
Down in the Secondprize's main shuttlebay, Karina
Durham picked herself up off of the deck of her ship, the Acapella
II, after being knocked to the ground by the last volley of weapons
fire. You didn't have to be a tactical genius to guess how this
particular battle was going to turn out.
"Acapella II to Secondprize," she said, climbing into her
pilot's chair. "Open the shuttlebay doors."
"Negative," Jaroch's voice replied. "Leaving at this juncture is
beyond inadvisable."
"I'm operating on orders from Alex."
"I have only your word for that," Jaroch said as the ship shook
again. "I cannot allow you to depart."
"Somehow I think you're too busy to stop me. Acapella II
out." Karina gently lifted her ship up off the deck and smashed her
thumb down on her weapons control. Disruptor blasts seared
forward, obliterating the Secondprize's shuttlebay doors and
clearing her path. She slammed the ship into full impulse and
rocketed out of the Secondprize.
Once again, Jaroch found himself sprawled awkwardly on the
bridge carpet after yet another in a seemingly endless series of
blasts shook the Secondprize.
"She just shot her way out!" Prescott said.
"Can we get a tractor beam on her?"
"Not a chance. She's really moving...she's out of the
asteroid ring." The ship lurched to starboard, plunging the bridge
into darkness.
"Shields down!" Prescott said as the emergency backups
kicked on.
"Engineering to bridge," Commander Scott Baird's voice
called over the comm system. "I had to shut down the core before
we f***ing exploded!"
"That may be happening anyway," Jaroch replied grimly.
"Real f***ing funny, Jaroch."
"How are our other systems?" Jaroch asked, ignoring Baird's
reply.
"What other systems? Impulse is down, shields are down,
weapons are down; life support's about we've got left."
"Sir!" Sullivan shouted from the conn.
Jaroch looked up at the viewscreen as an asteroid loomed into
view.
"We're drifting right into it," Sullivan said. "I can't do
anything!"
"All hands, brace for collision!" Jaroch shouted. He ignored the
panicked demands to know what sort of collision it would be and
whether or not the Secondprize had insurance coverage for this sort
of thing coming from the other end of the comm line.
The voices quickly switched to terrorized screaming as the
Secondprize smashed into the asteroid like a crippled jet liner
attempting an emergency landing. The secondary hull hit first,
scraping roughly across the mountainous surface of the giant mass.
It came to an abrupt halt as the deflector dish crashed into a rocky
ridge, which rose up half of the height of the neck connecting the
secondary hull to the saucer. The inertia was enough to rip the
warp nacelles right off of their pylons, sending each rocketing
forward across the upper plateau of the ridge.
Fortunately, the saucer didn't suffer the same fate. Instead,
it jolted to a stop, slamming every person on board into the
bulkhead in front of them, then smashed down onto the ridge
plateau. In the space of a few short seconds, the Excelsior-class
starship had been reduced to a twisted hulk marooned on the
surface of an out-of-the-way asteroid.
"So much for them," Sulu said with satisfaction. "All
Condors, reflock and prepare for pocketing."
"Admiral, Condor 34 reports detecting a small vessel leave
the Secondprize. It has fled the asteroid ring at a very high rate of
speed," Radley said.
"Order Condor 100 to pursue and destroy that ship," Sulu
said. "Once the other Condors are in position, engage the subspace
generators and get the freighter underway."
"Aye."
On the main viewscreen, Rydell and the others watched as
one-by-one the ships of the Next Federation fleet moved into
position and vanished into subspace.
On the Acapella II, Karina Durham had almost come to
believe that she'd escaped undetected when her sensors decided to
burst her bubble. A ship was closing in from behind and closing
fast.
"We'll just see about that," she muttered as she pushed her
warp drive into the red. On a direct course at this speed,
Waystation wouldn't be more than an hour away. Karina just
hoped Rydell could stay alive long enough for her to return with
reinforcements.
That's about the time she noticed that her pursuer was still
closing. "What the hell?" She called up a more detailed sensor
display and immediately wished she hadn't. Karina had seen the
USS Defiant in action during a stopover at Deep Space Nine a few
years earlier and had told herself then that she never wanted to end
up on the bad side of one of those class of ships. Now one was
quickly overtaking her, and she was pretty sure they weren't just
dropping by for a chat.
She checked the readouts on the local region. Nothing but
open space, and there was no way she was going to be able to
outmaneuver or outgun her new little friend. Even if she could use
her comm system (which she was pretty sure was being jammed by
now), Waystation couldn't get anyone to her in time.
Time for Plan B.
Karina set the ship on autopilot and opened a hatch in the
floor of the flight deck, allowing her to drop down into the bowels
of her ship. She crawled through a short, cramped tunnel to a small
chamber holding one modified photon torpedo. She'd read a long
time ago about torpedoes being refitted to act as tiny high-speed
escape pods. Considering the small size of the Acapella II and the
dangers inherent in her work, Karina had decided to get one as a
last resort way of fleeing her ship. She'd hoped she'd never have to
use it. So much for that.
On the wall of the chamber was a small keypad that tied
into her main flight console. She quickly programmed the
Acapella II to start firing phasers and rear torpedoes
indiscriminately, then she targeted her torpedo escape pod at
Waystation and climbed inside.
As the firing counter ticked down to zero, she closed and
sealed the torpedo hatch, closed her eyes, and hoped for the best.
Condor 100 veered through the barrage of phaser blasts
heading in its general direction and let loose with a spread of
quantum torpedoes. As the Acapella II continued firing almost
randomly (the desperate pilot even launched a torpedo from the
ship's forward tube), Condor 100's torpedoes obliterated the
Acapella II's shields and ripped through the hull, reducing the
entire craft to a cloud of pebble-sized debris in an instant.
Mission accomplished, Condor 100 awaited the arrival of
the Next Federation freighter.
"Condor 100 reports target destroyed," Radley said. "They
will join the fleet momentarily and continue on to Waystation."
Sulu looked at Rydell and smiled. "It pays to keep loose
ends to a minimum." Before Spaanz and Taanz could stop him,
Rydell threw a vicious right cross that sent Sulu reeling to the
deck. He paid for it a moment later as Spaanz grabbed him from
behind and slammed his powerful knee into Rydell's kidney.
Rydell fell to the deck himself, but quickly put a hand up
to prevent Dillon or Hawkins from taking any action.
"Very wise," Sulu said. "I'd really prefer that you three
died with the dignity your careers have been lacking. Shall we
adjourn to somewhere more...final?" Sulu nodded at Spaanz and
Taanz, who grabbed onto Rydell, Dillon, and Hawkins and
dragged them out of the control room, Sulu following behind.
In the meantime, while Rydell anxiously waited for the
pain to subside, he considered the situation from all angles, trying
to find a way out. Nothing was springing to mind except to hope
that somehow Karina had survived the destruction of her ship.
But if she was dead, Sulu was going to be the next to
go...even if Rydell had to die along with him.
Jaroch was fairly sure he had his eyes open, but only absolute
blackness stretched out before him. The weight on his body soon
revealed the problem. He shoved the figure laying on top of him
aside and pulled himself to his feet.
The bridge of the Secondprize was dimly lit by the two
emergency lights still functioning, but there really wasn't much to
see anyway other than rubble and unconscious bodies. Lieutenant
Carr, whom Jaroch had just shoved aside, groaned weakly but
didn't move.
"Jaroch to engineering," he said, slapping his commbadge.
"Baird," the shaky voice of the Secondprize's chief engineer
replied. He sounded parsecs away. "Main comm system is shot.
We're functioning on commbadges only."
"Very well. What is our status?"
"F***ed."
"Besides that."
"Life support is on backup. I'd say we've got about eight
hours. Forcefields are in place over all the hull breeches. And we
still have transporters...like they'll do us any good."
"What about shuttles?"
"I'll have to check on that and get back to you. But at least
we know we have a big f***ing hole in the shuttlebay we can fly
them out of."
"I will have to remember to thank Miss Durham for that,"
Jaroch remarked. "Bridge out."
The turbolift doors slid open with a crisp whoosh allowing
Captain Lisa Beck to step out into Waystation's ops where
Lieutenant Commander Craig Porter and Lieutenant Sean
Russell stood manning their posts.
"Afternoon, guys," Beck said brightly. "Anything going
on?"
"Not a bit," Porter replied. "I'm running through some
probe data I hadn't had a chance to look at."
"Thrilling," Beck said. "I guess I'll be in my office." She
took two steps then stopped. "You know, Craig, my office has to
be one of the great perks about working here as opposed to being
on a starship. I don't have to spend all my time sitting in a
command chair."
"That's why captains have ready rooms," Porter said.
"True, but how many ships have Andorian restaurants on
board?"
"How many want them?" Porter said with a smirk.
"No offense, Captain, but I wouldn't," Russell said.
Beck smiled. "You're both cretins. Get some culture."
Porter was about to reply when his attention was pulled
away by a blip that had just entered sensor range. "That's odd."
"You getting culture?" Beck said. "Definitely."
"No. There's a very small object on sensors heading our
way. It's cylindrical. Approximately 2 meters long...a meter wide.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was a photon torpedo."
"Sure looks like one to me," Russell said, checking his
readouts.
"Red alert! Shields up," Beck snapped. "Who the hell is
out there?"
"I'm not detecting anti-matter, Captain," Porter said.
"It's a blank?" Russell asked.
"Did I miss a memo about combat training exercises in this
area?" Beck asked.
Porter shook his head. "I don't think so. It's slowing
down and pulled up beside us. Wait. I'm getting one life sign
onboard. Human. Female."
Beck turned toward Russell. "Get whoever that is on
board and have her brought up here."
"Got it," Russell said. Beck peered over Porter's
shoulder at the sensor readouts as, in the background, Russell
ordered Lieutenant Stanton to the transporter room.
One moment, Karina Durham was encased inside a photon
torpedo, wrapped in almost pitch-blackness except for the soft
glow of the simple controls that had been jury-rigged inside. The
next, she was standing inside a Starfleet transporter room.
"You're on Waystation," the male security officer standing
in front of the platform said as Karina looked around confused.
"I'm Lieutenant Aaron Stanton. Captain Beck has asked that you
be brought to ops."
"Perfect!" Karina exclaimed, bounding off of the
transporter pad and headed toward the door so fast that Stanton
had to rush to catch up. "She's just who I needed to talk to."
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" Stanton asked.
"You're damn right. We're looking at an invasion."
"Invasion!" Stanton said surprised. "From who?"
"That's just it," Karina explained as Stanton led her into a
turbolift. "It's Starfleet people...sort of. They're being led by this
Admiral Sulu, and they've got a whole fleet of ships."
"That sounds crazy," Stanton said as he typed in the lift
destination.
"Oh yeah. He's gone. Total freak."
The turbolift slowed to a halt. As soon as the doors
opened, Karina charged out to find Captain Beck. She quickly
realized she was in some type of control room.
"I think we got off on the wrong floor," Karina said, turning
to face Stanton. He had a phaser trained on her.
"Admiral Sulu is a great man. Under his leadership, the
Federation will be glorious once again."
"Oh," Karina replied, taking a step backwards. "Sorry I
said..."
Stanton fired.
"Captain, we've got another vessel approaching,"
Lieutenant Commander Porter reported. "It's a cargo freighter
requesting permission to dock."
"On screen," Beck ordered. Porter changed the image of
stars on the massive ops viewscreen to show the approaching
freighter. "Were we expecting them?"
"No. They say they're having problems with their impulse
drive and diverted here to check it out before heading toward their
final destination."
"Which is?"
"Earth."
"Find them a repair bay," Beck said to the ensign handling
the docking control console. "And where the hell is that woman
from the torpedo?" she asked Russell.
"I don't know. Stanton was meeting her in the transporter
room and..."
He trailed off, his eyes widening in shock as he stared at the
viewscreen.
Porter and Beck looked at him confused.
"What is it?" Beck said as she and Porter followed
Russell's gaze to the viewscreen. "HOLY SH**!"
It was literally almost impossible to see the stars through all
of the Federation-style ships that now hovered on the viewscreen.
"Oh look. It's that fleet we ordered," Porter commented.
"How the hell did they sneak up on us like that?" Beck
demanded, turning on Russell.
"I I I don't know," Russell stammered, frantically
switching between readouts on his console. "They weren't there,
then suddenly they were!"
"Sean's right," Porter confirmed. "They whole fleet just
somehow popped out of subspace...and now they're arming
weapons."
"Are our shields still up?" Beck snapped.
"Yes," Russell said firmly. He took another look at his
console and did a double take. "Um...now they're dropping."
"Get them back up."
"I can't!" Russell cried, pounding on his console.
"I'm detecting comm traffic between us and the fleet's lead
ship," Porter said. He punched a couple of buttons, routing the
transmission to the speakers.
"...under control. I've locked out the primary systems and
am ready for Phase Two."
"That's Stanton's voice!" Russell shouted angrily.
Porter checked his console again. "He's in auxiliary
control...with the woman from the torpedo. I think she's
unconscious. And, as advertised, he's taken control of our primary
systems."
"Patch me through to the lead ship," Beck said.
"You're on," Russell said.
"This is Captain Lisa Beck of the Federation Outpost
Waystation. Whoever you are, I demand that you power down
your weapons and explain your intentions."
"You will have all individuals on Waystation report to the
cargo bays on Decks 56 and 57," the audio only reply stated.
"Anyone who does not obey this order will be killed. That
is all."
"What do we do?" Russell asked.
"Whatever they tell us to," Beck replied. "For the moment.
In the meantime, signal our surrender and get everyone to those
cargo bays."
Beck took a final look at the massive fleet hovering
outside her station, then followed her command crew into the
turbolift to join the rest of Waystation in captivity.
The "someplace more final" Sulu had mentioned turned out
to be nothing more than a large empty chamber. Spaanz and Taanz
slammed Rydell, Dillon, and Hawkins into the far wall of the
room, then joined Sulu near the room's only door. Sulu,
meanwhile, had opened a small panel in the wall and pulled out
two phaser rifles, which he handed to the two bulky Vulcans.
"What the hell is this?" Hawkins muttered.
"Firing squad," Dillon replied, his voice quivering.
Rydell stared straight ahead grimly, his eyes locked on the
Admiral.
"Radley to Sulu," the comm system barked.
"Go ahead," Sulu said.
"The fleet reports Waystation is secure."
Rydell's jaw clenched even more tightly.
"That would seem to take care of every loose end but one,"
Sulu announced. "Namely the three of you. You have been
convicted of treason against the Next Federation."
"Convicted?" Dillon retorted. "Where was the trial? I
want to appeal! Where's my lawyer?"
"I can honestly say that I will be very happy to have you
gone," Sulu said. "You've caused me nothing but misery for the
last seven years."
"So that's it?" Hawkins said. "You're not even going to let
us fight for our lives?"
"But then you might win," Sulu said. "Why would I want
to give you that kind of opportunity." He turned to the Vulcans.
"Your ship has been loaded with your payment for services
rendered. After you perform this execution, our business will be
concluded, and you may depart. It has been a pleasure, gentlemen.
Now if you will excuse me, I have a government to overthrow."
Sulu bowed briefly to Rydell, Dillon, and Hawkins and strode
out of the room commandingly.
As soon as he was gone, Spaanz and Taanz raised their
rifles at the condemned Secondprize officers.
"Captain..." Dillon squeaked, backing up against the wall.
Spaanz's voice filled the air.
"Ready, AIM..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
That's it for Series One of STAR TRAKS: THE LOST YEARS
Look for Series Two starting in January 2001!